Let Go of My Defenses
by spacefemme
Summary: "Maybe The Exorcist would," says Eddie. "Or The Thing." "Or Killer Klowns From Outer Space." "Yeah, that's not happening." *** Oneshot, set after "Running Out of Material." Only reason I didn't put it in the same work is because this one ups the rating.


"Hey Eds, is my ass better than hers?"

Richie has paused _The_ _Texas Chainsaw Massacre _on a shot heavily focused on Teri McMinn's tiny red shorts and is standing next to the TV with his back turned. Maybe most people who'd encountered a murderous demon clown multiple times would want to avoid horror movies after that, but when they got back to the townhouse tonight they were curious to see if any would actually still scare them after the shit they've seen in real life.

He looks over his shoulder to see Eddie roll his eyes and pick up the remote to keep playing the movie, so he sits back down next to him before he gets his answer.

"Tightest ass in New England," Eddie says flatly, adjusting himself to lean under Richie's arm.

"Damn right it is," says Richie. "You lucked out."

The movie is annoying as shit as it is without Richie trying to compete with it for Eddie's ire. When Teri McMinn ends up in the weird gross chicken room and the camera pans across a bench with a weird skeleton of bones from, like, eight different species set up as though to form someone sitting sprawled out, Richie whispers, "Ah, the perfect man."

Eddie furrows his brow and spreads out on the couch to mimic the pose.

"This what you're into?"

Richie gestures to the space between Eddie's legs and says, "Well it shows off the goods, so yeah, kinda."

A little further into the movie, Leatherface catches the guy in the wheelchair and drives his chainsaw into his abdomen again and again while the sister screams.

"He's not fuckin' surviving that," yells Richie. "Just run!"

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "What, getting impaled with a chainsaw? You don't think he could survive that?"

"No, dude! Were you fucking watching?"

His attention may or may not have drifted elsewhere, but he doesn't tell Richie that.

"What about a giant demon crab claw? Could he survive that?"

"That's different," says Richie.

"How?"

"I dunno, you're skinny. Less flesh getting cut through."

"That makes no fucking sense," says Eddie. "If anything, being skinny is what should've _killed _me."

"Okay, you almost died," says Richie. "I got it." He frowns and turns off the TV.

"Rich!"

"What? You were barely even watching, and when you were you wouldn't stop complaining!"

Again, Richie is right, and again, Eddie can't say anything.

"_Texas Chainsaw _doesn't scare us anymore," says Richie. "Now we know."

"The sequels might," says Eddie with a shrug as he pulls out his phone to check emails. He doesn't know why he suggested it; there's no part of him that wants to watch those.

"They won't," says Richie matter-of-factly.

"Maybe _The Exorcist _would_,_" says Eddie. "Or _The Thing_."

"Or _Killer Klowns From Outer Space._"

"Yeah, that's not happening."

Eddie puts his phone back in his pocket and looks up at Richie, who must have been staring at him for a hot second now. His brows are furrowed and he has a mischievous smirk on his face. It's pretty on-brand for him already, but given what happened at the bridge today, it's not much of a surprise what he does next.

Before Eddie can ask why he's looking at him like that (he knows, but still), he takes Eddie's face in his hands, kisses him hard, and starts laying him down on his back before Eddie pulls away with a small grunt.

"That's not gonna work," he says.

"What's not?"

"I can't be underneath you," says Eddie. "Either your glasses are gonna keep falling on me or you're gonna fuck up my stitches. Probably both."

Richie doesn't say anything, just rolls his eyes and pulls Eddie in by his sleeves so he can have his way. Eddie closes his eyes as he deepens the kiss and moves his hands up Richie's face, running his fingers through his hair once he reaches it.

"I love you," he whispers as Richie tilts his head to start sucking on his neck. They're both breathing heavy and their pulses are absolutely racing, but this is the one scenario wherein Eddie couldn't give less of a shit about that. Although he does grimace when Richie moves his mouth up to his jaw.

"You got spit on my neck."

"Hey, Eds," says Richie, squinting. "I'm curious, what do you think kissing is?"

Eddie huffs and wipes it off with the sleeve of his hoodie, which he promptly removes and throws on the floor.

"Remind me to wash that later," he says.

"What, you're not gonna throw your entire self in the washer right this second?"

"No."

"I admire your restraint."

Eddie tries to go back in, but his phone buzzes and interrupts.

"What, you have a side piece already?" Richie says.

Eddie props himself up with his left arm and checks his phone with the right.

"It's Bev," he says.

"Still experimenting with the whole 'straight' thing, huh?"

"She wants to know how I'm holding up."

"Make sure you tell her I'm a better kisser than Myra."

"Bringing up my ex-wife is not the turn-on you think it is," he says as he types out a response, says he's alright, that he's hanging out with Richie _who says 'hi' by the way _, then sets his phone on the coffee table next to them.

Richie might be inclined to think otherwise, judging by how fiercely Eddie kisses him after that. In any case, he realizes that being on his back right now has its own advantages, and squeezes Eddie's ass with both hands, making him inhale sharply through his nose.

"What do you know," says Richie as Eddie starts kissing his neck, the damn hypocrite. "Second tightest ass in New England." He wraps one hand around the back of Eddie's head and cups his crotch with the other.

"We can't -" says Eddie, squeezing his eyes shut. "I mean, I don't have any, ah -"

"That's fine," says Richie. "We don't have to -"

They hear a knock at the door and Mike walks in. He stops in the middle of asking if they want to go grab dinner when he sees the rather damning position they're in. This was definitely the wrong night for Eddie to forget to lock the door, and Mike having spent a lot of the last few decades on his own, seemingly forgetting some pretty big social cues, definitely didn't help their chances here. Eddie's eyes widen and his face goes red, but Richie just shrugs and plants another one on Eddie's lips.

"Love you too, Eds," he says, and starts toward the bathroom. Eddie snorts.

Mike's eyes are about ready to pop out of his head, but he's also smiling.

"D-do you wanna watch _Halloween _with us, Mike?" Eddie asks, barely able to get it out through his own laughter.


End file.
